


now a svt drabble collection

by nekrateholic



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas, M/M, Smoking, Witches, get that tree (tm)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22022551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekrateholic/pseuds/nekrateholic
Summary: probably all jicheol, probably all ao3 user baexil's fault. more info/warnings (if any) in chapter notes
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 40
Collections: kbas secret santa 2019





	1. joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baexil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baexil/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witches hate the cold, everyone knows that.

“Don’t you know that, like, witches hate cold?” Jihoon grumbles as Seungcheol drags him through the path between their house and the forest. 

Seungcheol shoveled the snow this morning while Jihoon was making breakfast and he knows Seungcheol is incredibly thorough in everything he does. But the path is barely that anymore, snow already covering the indents of Seungcheol’s shovel and Jihoon  _ hates it. _

“You keep forgetting,” Seungcheol grins at him, “that I am also a witch.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. His breath comes out in tiny clouds and he’s cold even through the five layers he has on. He has half a mind to whisper an itching spell into the hand Seungcheol has clasped around his wrist just he could get back home to the warmth of their fireplace.

But he doesn’t. Because as much as he complains, the day is bright and sunny and the snow kind of pretty. Only a little.

But Seungcheol doesn’t need to know that. “Why do we need a Christmas tree anyway? It’ll only rot away and we’re killing a living thing-” 

“You and I both know,” Seungcheol interrupts, grin still in place, “that we’re gonna re-plant this tree right back once we take it down. My healing spells are the best.”

“Show off,” Jihoon mumbles but doesn’t protest further. Like many other times, Seungcheol is right.

*

It had been a scandal, back when they first got together. It was unheard of, witches opting out of a normal family. Or whatever people considered normal, anyway. Jihoon considers his family pretty normal, even if it consists of Seungcheol and their two cats. Especially because of that.

There’s nothing better to come home to than Noir and Blanche curled up into each other like a living, furry yin-yang sign. Seungcheol brewing something on the stove or arranging their herb stash or just generally existing.

Jihoon might not enjoy the cold, or the fact that he’s being dragged into the forest to kill a tree (even if they will re-plant it later). His life out here? He’d take it over that supposed  _ normal  _ life any day.

*

Seungcheol is dragging the tree back to their house, the fir tree’s branches clearing the path better than any shovel could. Unfortunately, this also means that the excess snow gathers at the trunk, right into Seungcheol’s backside.

“Remind me again why I’m the only one dragging this?”

Jihoon swings his legs from the top of the tree, enjoying the feeling of being away from the snow. “Because you love me?”

“I do,” Seungcheol says and Jihoon has about half a second to register the note of mischief in his voice before the fir tree drops, Jihoon with it, and he finds himself tackled right into the snow around them.

Jihoon blinks up at Seungcheol grinning above him. The snow is getting under his scarf and into the collar of his sweater and it’s  _ awful. _

“We could make snow an-”

A moment, and Jihoon is no longer lying in the snow. In fact, the snow has melted around them, in the shape of Jihoon’s puffy jacket and he finds himself lying on the grass under it instead. A stray daffodil blooms right next to his ear.

It’s Seungcheol who’s rolling his eyes this time. 

“Buzzkill.”

Jihoon only shrugs. “Told you, witches hate the cold.”

He finds himself maneuvered into the air and back on the fir tree, all the while Seungcheol doesn’t stop grumbling to himself. Jihoon is too busy being happy to no longer touch the snow to care.

(Privately, he’s already imagining how their Christmas tree would look like. The box with their decorations isn’t all that big but Jihoon has gotten good at convincing their house plants to play garlands. Noir and Blanche have almost stopped trying to destroy it every year, too. But anyway, regardless of how the tree looks, the sight of it across their fireplace, with Blanche curled up on top and Noir in Seungcheol’s lap - it never fails to warm Jihoon better than any fire could.)


	2. blurry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> canon compliant! (sort of). smoking, that's p much the fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all the presents for my love ♥

Jihoon lies sideways on his bed, feet on the wall and his head hanging upside down. There’s a window open above him, just to his left. The position is a little awkward if he wants the smoke to be picked up by the wind outside but smoking at the window would be infinitely worse. You never know who’s watching.

He puffs out a perfect smoke circle and watches it dissipate in the chilly spring air. It’s getting a little cold but, like the position, it’s yet another case of lesser evil. 

The door creaks open and he startles for half a second before Seungcheol’s face comes into focus, upside down.

“This isn’t healthy,” Seungcheol points out, voice even. He looks so serious too, Jihoon can’t help but laugh.

“You say it like I don’t know about the pack you hide in the studio.” He points an accusing finger at Seungcheol, aimed at his face but pointing somewhere around his shoulders instead. 

Seungcheol’s frown deepens, the serious-leader façade lasting a moment longer before he sighs. “Care to share?”

Jihoon lifts the pack of cigarettes and lets it drop unceremoniously to the floor, right next to his face. The lighter he holds out, though. He might be dumb but he’s not  _ stupid. _

Seungcheol only rolls his eyes, snatching the lighter first, the cigarettes after. He sprawls on the floor, close to Jihoon but at an angle. Jihoon can’t try and see his face without craning his neck too far to be subtle so he settles for watching the smoke curl up from Seungcheol’s cigarette instead.

Voices carry from outside, someone arguing and someone else trying to placate them. 

Jihoon makes another smoke ring.

“Is Soonyoung babysitting?” 

Seungcheol huffs out a laugh. “They’re grown adults.” Then, a beat later. “Yeah.” The pause is longer this time, heavier somehow. “I need a bit of quiet, I think.”

Jihoon hums in response, making grabby hands at Seungcheol until he surrenders a cigarette and the lighter.

“Have you ever thought about giving up?” Seungcheol’s voice is quiet, curious. 

Jihoon isn’t entirely sure which part does he mean - the group? Music? Life? The answer is the same anyways. He shuffles back on the bed, then on his stomach. Seungcheol is staring at the ceiling, cigarette lit and burning away between his fingers. Jihoon suspects it never reached his lips.

“Not really,” he says finally and Seungcheol’s eyes snap to him. “Not seriously, anyway.”

He doesn’t ask the question back because he knows the answer. Seungcheol turns on his side, fully turned to Jihoon now.

“It’s a little tiring sometimes. Being the responsible one.”

“A little,” Jihoon mocks, laughter lacing the words. He reaches out, pushes Seungcheol on his back again then hovers above. “You’re allowed a break from time to time,” he says, reaching for Seungcheol’s useless cigarette. “You’re allowed to be a little dumb sometimes, too.” He takes a drag, then gently taps Seungcheol’s lips. Seungcheol looks a little awestruck as he opens up but doesn’t choke when Jihoon exhales. 

Jihoon moves back into his original position, staring at the world upside down. A gust of wind ruffles his hair and he reaches out to straighten it on instinct. 

There’s a loud crash somewhere downstairs and Seungcheol audibly flinches, already trying to sit up. Jihoon’s hand shoots up - he can’t push him back down in this position but he can make getting up a little harder.

“Soonyoung can handle it,” he says with conviction. Soonyoung would probably disagree but he’s also a bit dramatic, so whatever. Seungcheol flops back on the floor, which is more important.

“Can I have the lighter?” Seungcheol mumbles eventually.

Jihoon huffs. “Stop wasting my cigarettes.”

He gives him the lighter anyway.


End file.
